


Hear Me Roar

by SunBinamra



Category: Generator Rex
Genre: Angst, Background story, Childhood, Drama, One Shot, Other, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-08-14 17:04:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8021995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunBinamra/pseuds/SunBinamra
Summary: The story of the girl with the killer voice. Oneshot, rating to be safe.Originally published on ff.net on April 25, 2016





	Hear Me Roar

**Disclaimer: I do not own** **_Generator Rex_ ** **.**

**Warning: there is violence plus mentions of sexual assault and suicide. Because apparently I’m really good at twisting children’s cartoons into something dark and disturbing.**

Circe is four when she first starts to feel that something is wrong.

She has the perfect life - two middle class parents who spoil her, no siblings to steal her things, the comfiest bed anyone could possibly have, and of course a tiara. That tiara is her prized possession, for she is a princess reigning over her kingdom of stuffed animals. Twenty-three animals, to be exact.

She is not alone, not by a longshot. And yet, despite all this, she feels lonely.

It doesn’t help that her parents don’t seem to have much time for her anymore.

“Circe, dear, good girls should be seen, not heard.”

“But Mum -”

“Circe, please,” her mother sighs dramatically. “I’ve had an exhausting day. Do be quiet for now, alright?”

_ But I don’t want to be quiet! _ she wants to shout.  _ I’ve been quiet all day. Why can’t I talk now that you’re home? _

Disappointed, but knowing her mother is no longer paying attention, Circe shuffles to her room to have a one-sided conversation with her silent subjects. 

* * *

She is six when she sees a light at the end of a lonely tunnel.

Her parents want to enroll her in school. Technically, she could have enrolled last year, but her mother wasn’t prepared to let go of her yet (funny how that works) so she stayed home. This time, however, is different. She is older and her father demands that she begin her education as soon as possible.

Her mother is slightly worried because the school is on the other side of town -  _ that’s where all the riff-raff live, we can’t be seen in that neighborhood! _ \- but her father is insistent. It’s the closest school, just across the wide grass field, and the second closest school is an hour drive away and in the opposite direction from her father’s work.

Circe wouldn’t care if it was two hours away - school meant other children, which meant she could finally make some real friends!

Silently, she wills her mother to give in. Her wish is granted when, with a groan, her mother relents and prepares to call the school to enroll her.

Alone in her room, she jumps up in down in glee. School is going to be so much fun!

She eagerly counts down the days, explaining to her animals all of the glorious plans she has for her future friends. Oh, but don’t worry, she won’t forget about any of her loyal subjects, for they will always have a place in her heart. She just wants someone who can actually talk back, you see.

She is excited for school because she thinks that maybe, just maybe, she will find somewhere to belong.

* * *

She smiles as the teacher introduces her to the class, hoping that by appearing friendly, everyone will welcome her.

She is wrong.

“You’re so weird!”

“Why do you look like a vampire?”

“What kind of a name is  _ Thirsty _ anyway?”

The mean words and hurtful comments slowly chip away at her thousand-watt smile until it lies in a thousand pieces at her feet. She was wrong; this is not somewhere she can belong.

“Ignore them. They’re jerks,” a voice says from behind her. She turns to find a dark-skinned blond girl with vivid green eyes looking at her intently. She is dressed shabbily; her mother would say this girl is clearly riff raff, not to be associated with.

“You got a Greek name, right?” the little blond asks. Circe blinks but nods slowly. The blond beams.

“I knew it! Má’s been tellin’ me an’ Jilly about the Greek gods and stuff an’ I think Circe was one of ‘em. She was a… a… blech, I can’t remember but I think it’s a cool name!” Her speech is quite improper too, but Circe can’t find it in herself to care. This is the first person that hasn’t said something mean to her today.

“I’ve got a Greek name too! Mine’s Lisandra, but you can call me Liz.” The spunky blond thrusts her hand out and nearly smacks Circe in the face. “Oops! Sorry ‘bout that.”

Circe’s eyes are wide with shock over the blond’s fiery personality, but she somehow remembers her manners and shakes the other girl’s hand.

“Um, I don’t mean to be rude but, um,” Circe trails off, unable to finish. Liz raises an eyebrow, which is impressive for a six-year-old.

“What? Spit it out, I don’t got all day,” she says impatiently.

“Well… your clothes are really holey and stuff. Isn’t is uncomfortable?” Liz blinks, clearly not expecting the question.

“Um… no.” She suddenly looks worried. “You don’t think they’ll fall apart, do you?”

“N-no,” Circe lies. Liz relaxes immediately.

“Oh good. ‘Cause these gotta last me all year, you know? Má would be pretty mad if I ruined ‘em on the first day of school…”

As Liz happily chatters away, Circe finds out that she is six too, she has a little sister named Jillian (“But everyone calls her Jilly or Jilly-bean, cause she’s always bouncin’ around”) and she is dirt poor.

“Really?” Circe asks in surprise. She didn’t know it was possible to be dirt poor. Is this what her parents meant by riff-raff?

“Oh yeah,” Liz nods sagely. “We don’t got money. But Má always says that even though we ain’t rich in cash, we’re rich in family and that’s more than enough.”

“Oh,” Circe says lamely. There is an awkward silence.

“You’re a little weird, but you seem nice. Wanna be friends?” Liz asks abruptly. Circe’s entire being lights up.

“Really?” she gasps, eyes shining. Liz edges away slightly.

“Um… yeah?” Circe’s grin is huge.

“Okay!” she exclaims happily. She impulsively throws her arms around Liz, causing the blond to splutter and complain about the unexpected contact.

She is six when she makes her first real friend.

* * *

It is only a few weeks later when she gets her first taste of what a true family is like.

Her father is late to pick her up, again. She should be used to it, but today is special. Today is her birthday.

Liz is about to leave with her mother when she looks back at Circe’s forlorn face. Tugging on her mother’s hand, the blond waves at her new best friend.

“You wanna come home with us today?” she calls. Circe brightens immediately and scrambles for her stuff.

“Sure!” she chirps, skipping up to her friend. Liz snickers.

“I told you she’s kinda weird,” the blond stage whispers to her mom.

“Lizzie, that’s not very nice!” the older woman scolds. Liz immediately scowls.

“Maaaaaa I said stop calling me that,” she whines. Her mother raises an eyebrow.

“But it’s such a cute name,” her mother teases. Liz’s scowl deepens.

“But Má -”

“You argue with your mother?” Circe asks, fascinated. If she ever talked back to  _ her _ mother, she would get a sound scolding.

Liz’s mother chuckles. “All the time, actually. I’m sure you know by now that Lizzie can be quite stubborn.” She smiles fondly at Circe. “It’s nice to finally meet you, sweetheart.”

“Hello,” Circe mumbles, suddenly shy. Liz grabs her hand.

“Hurry up, slowpoke, Jilly’s probably wonderin’ where we are now!” the blond says impatiently, tugging until Circe laughs and skips forward so the two girls are side by side. The trio sets off on their walk home, Liz bickering with her mother over the most ridiculous things. The older woman doesn’t seem to mind though, and gently but cheekily counters her daughter’s arguments. Liz occasionally gets Circe to back her up on this or that, but for the most part Circe is content to listen. So this is what a happy family sounds like.

* * *

“ Chúng tôi về nhà (1)! ” Liz shouts. A small blond head pops out from behind a stack of clothes with a bright grin.

“Lizzie! Má!” three-year old Jillian squeals, launching herself at her older sister. Liz barely catches the toddler but grins.

“Hi Jilly-bean!” she says warmly. “Miss me?” She tickles the tiny blond, who shrieks in delight. While the sisters laugh and chatter away, Circe unabashedly stares around her friend’s house, if it can be called that.

The tiny one-room shack is fairly neat, the family’s meager possessions organized and put away. What really catches Circe’s attention, though, is the lack of a bed. Instead there is a mat with one pillow and a couple of blankets piled on top. She didn’t understand what Liz meant by dirt poor until now.

Funny, how something as trivial as a grass field can mean the difference between having a comfy bed and not having a bed at all.

“Aren’t you sad that you don’t have a bed?” Circe asks. She can’t imagine  _ not _ sleeping in her comfy bed. Liz shrugs.

“I’ve never had a bed, so I dunno. ‘Sides, I’ve got Má and Jilly, that’s all I need.”

“Still, I think a bed is important too,” Circe insists. “You gotta sleep to be a healthy person, you know?”

“Hugs are more important,” her friend argues. “And I got plenty of those.”

“Nuh uh! Sleep’s more important! And beds are comfy and warm and stuff! That’s everything a hug is, right?”

Liz gives her a strange look. “But beds can’t hug you back, can they?”

Circe’s eyes widen, and she is shocked into silence.

She is seven when she realizes that she doesn’t really have a family of her own.

* * *

Later that night, after Liz and her mother drop her off at home, Circe has her very first fight with her parents.

“What were you doing, hanging around with them?” her mother asks.

“Liz is my best friend! I told you about her, remember?”

“Yes, but you never mentioned her family was so, so…” Her mother wrinkles her nose in distaste. Circe is confused.

“So what, mother?”

“... Unsightly,” her mother says finally. “They are riff-raff, Circe. You shouldn’t spend any time with them, they’re beneath you. I thought I raised you better than this?”

“But they’re really nice!” Circe argues. “And Liz is really funny and brave and and she’s teaching me Vi-viet- uh, Vietnamese! Then we can talk to each other in our own secret language and it’s gonna be so cool…!” She doesn’t realize that she’s lapsed into informal speech, the kind Liz and the other kids at school use. Her mother is horrified.

“It’s only been a few weeks and already they’ve corrupted you! Oh, this is why I didn’t want your father to send you to that God forsaken school…”

“Huh?” Circe asks. Her mother tsks.

“That settles it. Tomorrow I’ll call the school and see about getting you transferred.”

“What? No!” Circe shouts. “I don’t wanna!”

“You don’t have a choice, Circe,” her mother says sternly. “I’m only doing what’s best for you. Hanging around with people like them… it’ll severely impact your future. Connections are everything dear, and you don’t want the wrong ones.”

“But, but I have a connection to Liz!” Circe cries. “She’s my friend!”

“No she isn’t,” her mother says coldly. “She is a phase, nothing more. Soon enough you’ll forget about her.” Circe has never been more angry in her life.

“Liz is my friend, and you can’t make me stop being friends with her!” she screams before running upstairs to her room. She slams the door behind her and grabs her favorite stuffed animal before collapsing on the bed with loud sobs.

* * *

By some miracle, her mother has not transferred her to another school by morning. While her father also isn’t happy about her friendship with Liz, promotion time is approaching so he cannot afford the extra detour to the other school. She is warned to stay away from the blond, but Circe is so relieved about not having to transfer that she barely registers the command.

She can go back to school! She really doesn’t have to be lonely anymore!

She practically dances through her morning routine and hums at breakfast, much to her mother’s annoyance. Circe can’t find it in herself to care much, though.

She is contrite as she kisses her mother goodbye and hops in the car so she can go to school. If nothing else she feels guilty for upsetting her mother like that.

Her father, however, is the same as always and that puts her more at ease. Maybe she is not in as much trouble as she thought. She can’t contain her happiness and bounces in her seat throughout the whole drive. Other than the occasional disapproving glance, her father doesn’t comment.

As he drops her off, her father warns her again about playing with the “ragamuffin child.” She nods obediently and makes false promises that she’ll choose her friends more carefully. Of course, she has no intention of doing so considering the greeting she received on the first day from the other students. And besides, Liz is fun and her mom is really nice! 

It’s the first time she’s ever lied to her parents.

She tries to ignore the niggling guilt at the back of her mind as she clambers down and says goodbye to her father. Her fight with her parents and the ensuing lie did upset her, but the sight of her friend - a real friend! - waving at her from the playground pushes all her worries to the side. Yes, this is where she wants to be.

* * *

She is eight when she gets married for the first time.

Liz is the maid of honor, naturally. She complains about it the entire time but it’s worth it to see her tripping in that bright pink bedsheet.

Some of her other friends are the bridesmaids, complete with tiny bunches of daisies and other flowers in their hair. Unlike Liz, they are perfectly happy with their pink attire.

Liz’s sister Jillian is the flower girl. She is the world’s sweetest angel, and therefore untouchable - even the meanest bullies at school don’t dare say a word against her. Then again, that could be because Liz threatened to beat up anyone who made her sister cry.

She may be tiny, but that little spitfire can really pack a punch.

The groom is one of the most popular boys of the grade. Circe is not quite sure how she convinced him to go through with this, but she’s grateful nonetheless.

The ceremony is short, quick, and as creative as the product of any eight-year-old mind can be. Circe beams throughout the entire thing in her pretty white dress, sparkling shoes, and her favorite tiara. After today, she will no longer be a princess; she will be a queen with a king by her side.

Everything is perfect.

The ceremony ends when the priest gets bored and goes back into the school building for a snack.

“Finally!” the blond cries, ripping off the bedsheet. “Freedooooooom!”

Liz escapes to the nearby tree before Circe can force her to put the “dress” back on. Circe simply sighs, shrugs, and wanders off to sample the food (pretending, of course, because you can’t eat plastic food, silly), while her new husband sneaks off to who-knows-where.

Suddenly there is a crash, then a scream, then a long, drawn out wail of pain. Circe runs to the tree to find her new husband on the ground and howling in agony. Liz sits on the branch directly above, practically snarling at the boy in the dirt.

“That’s what you get for makin’ fun of your bride, jerk!” she hollers indignantly.

It shouldn’t be funny - after all, her best friend just shoved the groom out of a  _ tree _ , thereby ruining her perfect wedding - but Circe laughs anyway.

Later they get in trouble for breaking the boy’s arm. Liz proudly claims credit and attempts to convince the parents that Circe had nothing to do with it (even though apparently standing there and laughing instead of getting help makes her guilty by association). It doesn’t work.

Her wedding is ruined, she’s been grounded for a week, and she’ll definitely need to file for a divorce (thank God there are no children to worry about), but Circe couldn’t be happier.

* * *

She is ten when the world blows up and takes her life with it.

At first, she doesn’t notice anything is wrong. She looks normal, acts normal, and even thinks normal. She must be one of the lucky ones who was not changed into a mindless monster by the Event.

She believes this until she and Liz are attacked by a pair of rat EVOs in an alley, and her scream blows them away.

It is the look of shock and slight fear on her best friend’s face that fractures her heart. Because Liz is the bravest, strongest person she knows. She has never seen Liz afraid. Until now.

Until she saw what Circe had become.

“C-Circe, you're…” Liz stammers. Circe cannot speak. She doesn't know what to say.

For years, all she has wanted was to stop being quiet.

Now she wants to scream at the irony. And how ironic is it that she can no longer scream safely?

* * *

To her amazement and eternal gratitude, Liz does not abandon her.

Of course, she is still shocked, and more cautious than she used to be, but she hasn’t run in the other direction so Circe will take what she can get.

“You really don’t think I’m a freak?” Circe asks in a small voice. Liz wrinkles her nose.

“Well, your mouth thingy is kinda creepy,” she starts slowly. “But you haven’t tried to eat me yet so that’s good, right? And you still act like yourself and stuff, so it’s not like things have changed all that much… And besides,” Liz suddenly brightens. “Now you’ve got superpowers… kind of. You could be a superhero! That would be so cool!” She jumps to her feet.

“Hey, I could be your partner! I mean, I don’t got powers but I can still kick butt! We’d go fight crime together and beat up those mean bullies that keep tryin’ to steal everyone’s lunches and and and stuff… We need cool superhero names!” she declares abruptly. She eyes Circe, narrowing her eyes.

“Hmm… Well, you’re kinda already named after a goddess so I s’pose that could work… But using your real name is so  _ lame _ . How about, uh… Trumpet Girl! Or Miss Scream, or or…” Liz continues rattling off (pretty stupid) names while Circe gapes at her in awe. The blond frowns at the other girl.

“Oi! You gotta give some ideas too, you know! I can’t do all the work for you!”

Overwhelmed by gratitude and love, Circe can only throw her arms around her best friend and mumble  _ thank you, thank you, thank you _ over and over again.

* * *

She is ten and a half when she learns what true grief is.

“Where is it? Where is it?” she mutters as she rummages through the box. “I know it’s here somewhere…” Sticking her tongue out in concentration, she practically falls into the container.

“Aha! Gotcha,” she says triumphantly, pulling out the pretty blue ribbon. She looks at the clock and squeaks.

“Oh no, I’m late!” she cries, grabbing her things and rushing downstairs. She is about to bound out the door when her path is blocked by her parents.

“You cannot go out today,” her father says firmly.

“But why not?” Circe asks with a frown. “You said I could go yesterday!” Her parents exchange worried looks before telling her the news.

An EVO attacked a local restaurant. For a small town, this is a big event, and news travels fast around here. No one is quite sure where the EVO came from, but luckily there was only one casualty. This is the first Circe has heard of it, and for a moment she is as relieved as the rest of the town. Until her parents reveal the victim’s name.

The town’s little Jilly-bean is gone.

The moment she finds out, Circe bolts. She has to find Liz, because chances are wherever Jillian was, Liz was there too. And if Liz was in the restaurant… 

She doesn’t even want to go there.

When she arrives on the scene, panting, she finds those guys in white - Province? Providence? - crawling all over the place. The restaurant has a gaping hole smashed through its side. The overwhelming evidence destroys what little hope Circe had that the rumors were wrong.

And in the middle of it all is her best friend screaming for her dead little sister.

Tears stream down Liz’s face, clearing tracks through the dirt and blood on her cheeks. She is fighting the blond man holding her back from running towards the tiny, bloody bundles being carried out - wait, why are there two bundles? In a daze, Circe squints and spies a foot peeking out from one while a hand dangles from the other.

The EVO had sliced the little girl in half.

She retches on the spot.

Still gagging, but forcibly pulling herself together -  _ Liz needs you, you can’t fall apart now _ \- she wipes her mouth and stumbles over to where her best friend has finally collapsed in a puddle of grief. Her wails break Circe’s already fractured heart, and when she falls to her knees beside the blond she can’t hold back the tears anymore.

Throwing her arms around Liz, they keen together. Because even if they are not related by blood, Jillian was a little sister to both of them.

“Jillian? JILLIAN?! Trường hợp là con tôi không?!”(2)

Liz’s mother sprints onto the scene and relief momentarily crosses her face when she spies Liz, dirty and bloody but otherwise unharmed. However, she stops dead when she catches sight of the remains of her youngest daughter.

“No no no no, bé yêu của tôi!  CON CỦA TÔI !!!”(3)

There is so much screaming, and crying, and blood everywhere. Everything starts to blur for Circe so she clings to her best friend, the only thing keeping her grounded right now.

The worst part is, Circe knows that had she not stopped to find the perfect ribbon for her present, she would have been in that restaurant too. That restaurant was where the three always went to celebrate special occasions. And today was extra special, because Jillian was officially old enough to enroll in kindergarten.

It is Jillian’s fifth birthday. And she is dead.

* * *

The funeral is held the next day. Almost everyone in town is there, even her parents (“They may be riff-raff, but the little girl didn’t deserve to die like that.”). Circe cannot stop her tears from falling no matter how hard she tries. She clutches her mother’s hand, hoping for a little bit of comfort, but she knows her mother is only holding on for appearances.

Circe has never been to a funeral before, but she sincerely hopes this is the first and last one she’ll ever attend. She doesn’t know if she could stand to lose anyone else she loves.

Liz’s mother is too poor to afford a professional service so they dig the grave themselves, just Liz and her mom.

When they are finished - it doesn’t take very long, because the body meant to fit inside is tiny, too tiny - they wipe their sweat and tears away and gently lower the plain brown box into the ground. Liz’s mother picks her shovel back up but Liz hesitates.

“I wanna stay,” she whispers. Her mother looks like she’s about to cry again but manages a small smile.

“Alright. Come home when you’re ready.” She kisses her daughter softly before walking away. Circe walks up to stand next to her best friend.

The two simply stare at the grave. Neither girl speaks - what is there to say?

“It’s my fault,” Liz suddenly whispers. Circe glances at her best friend.

“Huh?”

“It’s my fault,” Liz repeats, slightly louder. “If I hadn’t… If I’d…” she isn’t able to complete her sentence as she breaks down for the thousandth time that day. Circe holds her and feels more tears trickle down her cheeks.

This isn’t the first time Liz has insisted Jillian’s death was her fault. Maybe it’s just survivor’s guilt - like the guys in white said - but Circe can’t help but get a bad feeling about this. Her best friend has always been reckless, but now heartbroken and blaming herself she may just do something incredibly stupid. Circe’s arms tighten around the sobbing blond, hoping against hope that she’s just overreacting.

* * *

Unfortunately, Circe’s fears are confirmed the next day when she goes to visit her friend and instead finds a frantic, hysterical mother.

She can’t believe her ears when Liz’s mother finally manages to explain what happened.

Liz ran away last night.

Circe’s mind whirls. It doesn’t make sense! Liz adores her mother, she’d never abandon her. Especially not now, not when Jillian has just…

She can’t even think it to herself, it’s too painful.

She’s hoping against hope that maybe Liz just needed to be alone for a while. Yeah, that’s probably it. She’ll be back soon, apologize for scaring everyone, and then help Circe find the prettiest flowers to put on the grave.

She tells Liz’s mother this, and the woman puts on a brave smile.

“I hope you’re right, sweetie,” she says hoarsely.

“I know I am!” Circe says determinedly. “Just you wait, she’ll be back before you know it!”

And for the first couple of days, she really believes it. She is able to force down the building dread with a firm  _ she’s just late, don’t worry, she’ll be back soon _ . But her hope dwindles with each passing day.

After a week of waiting, she is finally forced to face the truth. Her best friend isn’t coming back.

* * *

Circe has forgotten what it’s like to be lonely, but the absence of both Liz and Jillian hit her hard. She still has her other friends, but as they enter middle school the girls drift apart. Not that they were really close in the first place.

The loneliness is even worse now because she’s too old for stuffed animals. After having a taste of living, breathing friends, she can’t bear to pour her heart out to her inanimate toys. In order to cope, Circe throws herself into schoolwork. The more she takes on, the more excuses she has to not be home and alone. She keeps busy to avoid thinking.

All the while, she hides her status as an EVO, which isn’t easy in such a small town. The guys in white from before, Providence, are becoming a force to be reckoned with. She’s heard the horror stories about what happens to EVOs they capture, and she refuses to become a lab rat. She lives in constant fear that somehow someone will find out about her powers and turn her in.

Circe’s parents know nothing of their daughter’s suffering. Her father works all the time and is rarely home, and her mother begins to give up on ever raising the ideal, sophisticated daughter she always wanted. Circe is a disappointment, but she can’t find it in herself to be bothered by the fact. She withdraws into herself, which both annoys and concerns her parents. If she had been reserved around them before, she is completely silent now. The gap between them widens by the day. 

She isn’t living, not really. She’s just going through the motions like a good girl should.

She doesn’t know how long she can stand the monotony.

* * *

The monotony breaks when she is eleven. That is the year her parents finally find out.

A part of her is impressed that she made it this long without revealing her secret. The rest of her is depressed because the only reason it was so easy to keep the secret was because her parents stopped paying her any attention.

“Y-you’re one of them?” her mother whispers, horrified. “A filthy  _ EVO _ ?” Her father steps protectively in front of his wife.

“Don’t come any closer,” he warns. Circe desperately searches his face for any hesitation, any hint that he realizes he is shielding his wife from his only _ daughter _ , but there is none. The only things she sees in her father’s face are disgust and hate.

Should she really even call him her father anymore?

“B-but father,” she stammers. “It wasn’t my fault! I was changed like the others, but I’m still me! I’m still your daughter!”

“That’s what they all say, but you’re nothing more than beast now,” her father growls. “And I won’t let you hurt my wife.” Circe’s pretty sure her heart is irreparably shattered now.

“Father, I -”

“Stop it! You bring nothing but misery to yourself and others,” her mother spits. “Ever since you were little, you always sought to defy us. Hanging out with that ragamuffin girl, gallivanting with those other dirty children… it’s a disgrace! I can hardly show my face to the neighbors!”

“But mother -”

“A creature like you is no daughter of mine! I can’t stand to look at you anymore!”

“But -”

“Get out! GET OUT!”

And she runs, bursts out the door and runs as far as she can. Honestly, she’s not sure why she stayed so long, considering the only people who loved her for  _ her _ are gone. Liz has been missing for a year now and her mother has withdrawn into herself, the grief and shock of losing both daughters nearly rendering the woman catatonic. The only thing that seems to be keeping her going is helping out at the local orphanage. Circe can’t stand to visit anymore because it just hurts them both.

She doesn’t know where she’s going, and she doesn’t really care. All Circe wants right now is to escape the rejection that shouldn’t hurt as much as it does. She zigzags through alleys and leaps over startled stray cats, running until she just can’t anymore. When she is spent, she collapses behind a dumpster and curls in on herself. She’ll figure out what to do tomorrow, but right now she just needs to rest.

And so begins her life on the streets.

* * *

For the next couple of weeks she hitchhikes, stows away, and does anything necessary to get as far away as possible. Sometimes, if she’s lucky, she manages to scrounge up enough money to actually pay for her own bus ticket. That’s rare though, because even if she is a little girl no one stops for beggars.

She finally ends up in a huge city, which is overwhelming for a girl who grew up able to name every one of her neighbors and their favorite hobbies.

At first, she is captivated by all the sights.  _ No wonder everyone moves to the city!  _ she thinks.  _ It’s so much more fun here! _

Then reality hits along with the terrifying sense of smallness. She had merely been invisible before; she was practically nonexistent now. Everyone is always rushing somewhere, too preoccupied with their own lives to spare a glance for the starving child on the street corner.

The first time Circe goes dumpster diving, she almost vomits just from opening the lid. She scans the contents of the trash can, desperately hoping some lazy office worker couldn’t be bothered to finish their leftovers and threw them away, bag and all. But luck is not on her side today, as everything is either inedible or rotten. Cringing, she spends the next couple of hours searching for a garbage can that has anything even halfway edible. All she manages to find are a couple hunks of stale burnt bread behind a bakery.

Her hunger is nowhere near satisfied, but she doesn’t have the energy to search anymore. She’ll try again tomorrow. After all, practice makes perfect right?

Speaking of practice…

In her rush to get away, she almost forgot why she was running in the first place. So far her powers have not given her any trouble, but she knows she must be on guard now. She can’t afford to reveal her abilities to the wrong people. Who knows what they would do to her?

However, she is quickly realizing that her EVO abilities are her best means of protection. She doesn’t know how to fight and there’s no one to come looking for her if she goes missing. After a few narrow escapes, she reluctantly decides that she has to practice using her second mouth.

* * *

After a week of searching for a quiet, isolated spot, she decides on some abandoned docks. The crash of the waves will help hide the sound and the docks are so unstable she doubts anyone would be crazy enough to come out here. Besides her, of course.

The first time she tests her powers, it takes her almost an hour to work up the courage to open her mouth. Once she finally does, and the grotesque thing is illuminated by the setting sun, she shudders and pulls it back in. That’s enough for the day.

The second time she tries, she brings out the mouth and lets out a soft peep. Amplified by her EVO abilities, however, that little peep slams into the nearby rocks and startles a few crabs out of hiding. Scared, she retracts her mouth and decides to try again another day.

The next couple times she practices, she is still only making the smallest noises possible. However, her confidence is growing a bit so she decides to try a regular call.

The blast obliterates the docks and rockets out into the ocean, cutting a deep furrow through the waves.

She stares at the remains of the docks in horror. Since when has she been capable of so much destruction?

And she had been prepared to use this ability on  _ people _ ?

Clenching her fists, Circe promises herself that she’ll never use this power on a living thing. She doesn’t know if she could live with herself if she did so.

* * *

She is twelve when she loses her innocence.

She had been minding her own business, digging through some dumpsters when she was jumped from behind. Three, four, maybe five men have got hold of her and won’t let go.

She struggles, of course. If there’s anything she’s learned, it’s that you can’t go down without a fight.

But ultimately she fails, because it is one little girl against too many.

The men laugh and jeer at her attempts to hit them, commenting on how lucky they were to find such a cute little thing wandering around all by herself.

She always used to pride herself on being pretty. It was one of the few compliments her parents ever gave her. Now, she is cursing that beauty, for if she were ugly, she would not have attracted the attention of these men, right?

Maybe her parents were right. She only brings bad things to herself and others.

Hands are grabbing, pulling, tugging, ripping, and it hurts. It’s wrong, all wrong. Just make it stop stop STOP.

_ No! Stop! Let me go! _ she wants to shout, but she knows she can’t, because then they would see her for what she really is, and the thought of that rejection is scarier than the hands currently pinning her down. Tears stream down her face, knowing what will inevitably happen to her but unable to do anything about it.

Then one of them pops the button on her pants.

For a moment, she forgets herself, forgets that she is different. The fear takes over, rationality runs and hides in a corner. And so she does what any other person in her situation would do.

She opens her mouth and screams.

* * *

She later finds out that pieces of the thugs were found at least twenty yards away from the rest of their bodies. The women she is eavesdropping on - tall, elegant, sophisticated, the kind her mother always aspired to be - murmur about the tragedy and wonder what kind of monster would do such a thing.

_ Monster _ .

She is a monster.

Circe finds the nearest trashcan and throws up the only meal she’s had since that day.

* * *

By the time Circe is thirteen, she’s pretty sure she’s mastered life on the streets.

She knows the best dumpsters in the city, which shelters to avoid at all costs and which are okay during the daytime when the drunks are dead to the world. She knows which shopkeepers are nice and which ones would rather shoot first, ask questions later.

She is also ashamed to admit that she’s gotten pretty good at pickpocketing too. However, she makes it a point to only steal from those who clearly wouldn’t go hungry without their wallets (namely those men in their shiny shoes and crisp suits always in a rush to be somewhere).

But in general, she avoids people. Out here it’s survival of the fittest and she’s seen people beat each other up over tiny scraps of rotten food. She cannot afford to trust anyone, especially when she is an outcast among the worse-off of society.

She is not mean, per se. She doesn’t try to steal things from other street urchins like herself, and if she sees someone being ganged up on she steps in. But otherwise, she keeps to herself. It’s just easier that way.

Occasionally she wonders about the people she left behind. What are her parents doing? Are they happier now that she’s gone? What about her friends? Do they miss her at all?

And Liz. Where was she? Was she safe? Did she ever go back home? Circe hopes so. How different life would be if her friend had just stuck around -

She shakes her head.  _ Stop that _ , she chides herself.  _ Thinking about the past won’t do you any good now. _

She may have mastered this life, but she is far from happy.

* * *

She is fourteen when she decides that her life is meaningless.

Why bother living when the world is convinced you are a monster? That the only way you  _ might _ become normal again is to submit yourself to a shady military organization to be locked up and tested on like a lab rat?

She would rather die than suffer such a fate. And it is with this determination in mind that she steps onto the ledge of a twenty-story building.

Jumping off a building is not her first choice of how to go. She would prefer something fast and relatively painless like a bullet, or maybe a knife to the heart. Unfortunately, she is fresh out of guns and knives.

At least with this method, she can fly, if only for a little while.

She is ready to jump when a scream rents the air. She halts, unsure of what to do. 

_ It's none of my business _ , she reasons.  _ Besides, I'll be gone soon anyway.  _

Then there is another scream, this one a plea for help. 

“Please! Leave me alone! Don't… Don't touch me! Help! HELP!”

The words are familiar, and Circe shivers as she remembers iron hands, paralyzingly terror, and blood splattering in all directions.

She shudders and prepares to jump again. There is a third scream, this one sounding more like a strangled sob.

“No, please… Please stop it h-hurts…” Circe’s blood runs cold. She had managed to escape, but this kid… 

“Somebody, help me, p-please…”

That poor kid, whoever they are, don’t have her voice to protect them. Or do they?

Not wasting another second, Circe climbs down from the building and races in the direction of the voice. The cries are getting weaker now, like the owner is giving up.

_ No no no, hang on just a little longer _ , Circe thinks desperately, pushing herself to go faster. She remembers the pain, the terror, and most of all the helplessness, and she can’t just stand by when she knows she can do something about it.

No one should have to suffer through that.

She skids to a stop before an alleyway that’s shrouded in shadow, but there’s just enough light for her to see a small boy being held face down by three older men. His head is turned, and she can see there are tears on the boy’s face. Circe sees red.

“LEAVE HIM ALONE!” she roars, and the monsters are blown away screaming. She doesn’t bother to check if they are hurt, or even alive; her focus is the boy. Luckily he was not affected by the blast, but he hasn’t moved. She scurries forward and falls to her knees beside his prone form. Her hands are sticky with sweat.

“Are you alright?!” she asks. Then she wants to hit herself, because  _ of course he’s not alright _ .

Slowly the boy turns his head towards her. He tries to say something but all that comes out is a gurgle. She frowns in confusion before realizing that her hands are not sticky with sweat. They’re sticky with blood.

Horrified, her eyes slowly land on his back where she can see a deep knife wound bleeding sluggishly.

“Oh my God,” she gasps, unable to tear her eyes away. She can’t say anything else. She pats her pockets frantically, hoping for something,  _ anything _ , that could save him.

She comes up with nothing.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers, tears filling her eyes. “If I had gotten here sooner, you…”

“No,” the boy gurgles, managing a smile. “You… s-saved me.” He winces in pain and Circe’s hands flutter anxiously, unsure of what to do. The boy opens his eyes one last time.

“T-thank you,” he whispers before his eyes close forever. Circe is frozen, horror-stricken.

If only she hadn’t hesitated, if she hadn’t been so selfish in her pain, maybe he would have lived.

She gathers the dead boy into her arms and wails, silently vowing that she will live for herself and the boy whose name she’ll never know. She won’t allow something like this to happen ever again.

* * *

She is fifteen when she stumbles on her first potential family. Well, perhaps stumbles isn’t the right word. It is more of a violent, near fatal confrontation.

She is pretty happy at the moment, having nabbed a particularly fat wallet today, and she’s contemplating what she’ll buy when a shadow falls over her. Frowning, she turns and looks up.

A huge, green,  _ thing _ is towering above her and snarling.

_ EVO! _ her mind screams.  _ Get away now! _

Without thinking she opens her second mouth and lets loose the loudest scream of her life. With a grunt the EVO is blown back into a nearby building. She doesn’t waste any time in running for her life, dropping the wallet in the process. However, she isn’t able to outrun the crystal projectiles bursting from the hole the monster created.

“Why you…!” the EVO growled as it emerged from the rubble. “I’ll teach you to mess with me!”

_ It can talk?!  _ she thinks in horror. Her distraction costs her as a stray crystal grazes her ankle and causes her to trip. She falls and only has time to roll over before the monster’s giant hand crashes down where she had been moments before.

Now that she is able to clearly see the beast, her eyes widen in terror. She hadn’t had the chance to examine it up close before blowing it away, but is now kicking herself for pissing it off in the first place. It was big, ugly, and very very mad.

The lizard thing holds her down with its foot as she struggles to get away.

“Night night, girlie,” the lizard grins, and it raises its arm to crush her skull.

Circe closes her eyes and braces herself, but the impact never comes.

“Wait,” a voice snarls. She peeks open an eye to see a mechanical wolf holding the lizard back. Bright red eyes laser in on her and she instinctively shrinks back.

“She is powerful. She may be useful,” the wolf says. Still too terrified to speak, she can only watch as the lizard grumbles before lifting its foot off of her. She scrambles back immediately, only to bump into a girl with four arms and a deranged smile. The crazy girl cocks her head.

“Can’t I keep her?” she asks. “I need a new shiny toy.” Circe shudders.

“No. Van Kleiss will be the one to decide her fate,” the wolf says. It seems he’s the one in charge.

“But Biowulf…” the girl whines.

“Stop that, Breach,” the lizard snaps. The girl - Breach - pouts but acquiesces. Biowulf turns back to Circe.

“Consider yourself lucky, girl. Not many have the chance you’re getting, much less street urchins like you.”

Circe can’t help but feel she is more doomed than lucky.

* * *

Circe is taken through a portal (courtesy of Breach - the girl continues to terrify) to a land of red and black. She didn’t know it was possible for the sky to be dyed the color of blood.

As if that wasn’t creepy enough, she is taken to a crumbling black castle. Circe raises an eyebrow in disbelief. What kind of nutjob lived in a horror-movie set like this?

_ Then again _ , she thought, glancing at her captors.  _ I guess these guys fit right in. _

She is marched into a large hall, where she is told to wait with the crazy girl. Eyeing her companion, Circe hopes that she’s forgotten about wanting a new toy.

The girls wait in silence for a few minutes before the wolf and lizard come to fetch them. She is led to a throne room of sorts, where a softly smiling older man waits.

She examines him carefully. He is clean shaven and exudes confidence. His stance is relaxed, but her instincts scream that this man is dangerous. His innocent smile is a facade. And his arm… This man is clearly an EVO, just like the rest of them.

“Hello, my dear. I am Van Kleiss. I see you have already met Biowulf, Skalamander and Breach.” He indicates the trio that brought her here. 

“They are my valued subordinates. You see, we of the Pack -” Circe almost snorts at the name. “are on a mission to save EVO kind. I’m sure you’ve seen how despicably EVOs are treated by the general populace.” His brown eyes are knowing, and she hates that he is right.

Circe glares at the man. “Okay, so? What do I have to do with any of this?” Van Kleiss tilts his head in consideration.

“Our goal is to have EVOs and humans coexist peacefully, side by side. And Biowulf tells me he thinks you have the potential to… help further our cause.” Leaning forward slightly, Van Kleiss steeples his fingers.

“Tell me, my dear, would you like a front row seat to the EVO revolution?”

She doesn’t answer, and simply regards him with suspicion. She learned long ago that men are not to be trusted, especially the ones who are rich enough to hire henchmen. The man - Van Kleiss - sees her hesitation and offers a disarming smile.

“I understand your caution. But I assure you, if you would like to walk away we will not stop you. We are civilized people here, and you would do us no good if you were here against your will. The choice is yours, my dear.”

In the back of her mind, she knows this is risky. They are clearly shady people, and she’s had enough of shady people.

But they are like her, and they are the first people who have been willing to accept her in years.

She agrees to take the initiation test.

* * *

She is still fifteen when she meets the strangest boy she’s ever known in her life.

Seriously, what part of, “I’m leaving” translates to, “Come hither”?

But the boy is persistent, persistent enough to keep talking to her even after she reveals her powers.

She is so shocked that he hasn’t run away screaming that she stops to listen.

Then metal wings sprout from his back and he is flying, and her momentary elation is replaced by despair.  _ He is like me; we are both freaks, monsters. We will never belong anywhere. _

And yet, despite this, the boy seems happy. How can he be happy?

Her confusion increases when she learns he works for Providence. He’s happy being Providence’s pet EVO?

There’s something seriously wrong with that guy.

But even so, she finds herself drawn to him. Maybe it’s his infectious enthusiasm, or his damned optimism. Whatever the case may be, she almost kisses him.

Almost _ kisses _ him. With the mouth that has killed at least five men.

She is both relieved and disappointed when they are interrupted, and she’s not quite sure what to make of that. She decides to blame it on the stress and the fact that okay, he  _ was _ pretty cute. Heat of the moment, right?

But once the boy - Rex - is gone, she realizes that she messed up, big time. She may have just blown her only chance at having a family. Heart heavy, she steps through Breach’s portal to meet her fate.

* * *

To her utter amazement, Van Kleiss informs her that she has passed the test. Circe is dumbfounded. How had she passed? She couldn’t even hurt that EVO without Rex’s help!

Despite the confusion, she doesn’t question her new master’s decision. Perhaps she was too quick to judge him and he did have a kind heart after all.

Biowulf gives her a curt nod in recognition. She knows that if she has earned his master’s respect, she has also won his. Skalamander and Breach on the other hand barely react at all. Not that she was expecting them too.

A warm bubble of happiness lodges itself in her throat when she realizes that finally, she has a family again. Even if they were a bunch of misfits, she now had people she can count on. Perhaps her life is finally turning around.

* * *

Circe is happy with her new family. Well, as happy as anyone could be living in a place like Abysus.

Biowulf is a bit of an enigma. He is extremely loyal to Van Kleiss - almost too loyal, just like a lapdog (not that Circe would ever tell him that). He ignores her for the most part but if she has questions he’s usually open to answering them. In his own, annoyed way.

Skalamander still kind of creeps her out but she’s getting used to him. Kind of. He reminds her of the goons that always messed things up for the bad guys in movies, but a lot more competent. Like Biowulf, he tends to ignore her but is still willing to show her the ropes if she asks nicely.

She flat out avoids Breach. Nothing about that girl is sane.

And then there’s Van Kleiss. If his second in command is an enigma, he is an impossible riddle. Circe can’t figure him out. On the surface he is the perfect gentleman, rarely raising his voice and treating them all cordially, but Circe gets the feeling there is much more to him. She doesn’t bother to investigate further, though. Everyone has their secrets.

Even with all the mystery, she learns to enjoy her time in Abysus. A roof over her head, tentative “friends” to talk to and three meals a day. She can’t remember the last time she had any of those things.

She’s also started training in hand-to-hand combat. Biowulf is her primary teacher, and while definitely a hard taskmaster he’s not unreasonable. As her ability to defend herself strengthens, so too does her confidence.

Best of all, they teach her to master her EVO ability. Slowly they persuade her that her power is something to be cherished, not hated. As she grows more comfortable with herself, her ability to utilize her power grows as well. She can now change the pitch and frequency of her calls, and control the strength of the sonic waves.

If nothing else, she will be eternally indebted to Van Kleiss and the Pack for this.

Of course, Circe has her doubts occasionally. After everything she’s been through, she thinks she’s earned the right to be suspicious. But for the most part she is completely loyal to her new boss.

She sees Rex sometimes, and even though he tries to convince her that Van Kleiss is evil,  _ I mean look at what he did to the UN! _ , she refuses to believe it. Van Kleiss can be harsh, but it’s all for the greater good in the end. Right?

She still has faith in her master, but slowly Rex’s words and her own observations chip away at that faith.

_ How dare you? _ she scolds herself whenever this happens.  _ How dare you doubt the man that saved you? Ungrateful bitch! Remember where you would be if Van Kleiss hadn’t found you! _

It is enough to soothe her worries temporarily, but they always come back to haunt her somehow.

Meanwhile, that “heat of the moment” thing from Cabo Luna is starting to turn into a real crush. Which pisses Circe off to no end because dammit, they’re on opposite sides and he’s annoying and loud and he sliced her master in half the first time they met! He’s hardly boyfriend material.

But maybe…

No. It won’t happen. Not for lack of trying though, Rex is extremely stubborn.

In fact, one of her suspicions that she tries very hard to ignore is that Van Kleiss keeps her around because of Rex. There has been more than one occasion where Rex was caught off guard because he was distracted by her, which delighted her boss.

She always chalks this up to Van Kleiss simply being happy about his plans moving forward. But it’s getting harder and harder to ignore the sadistic pleasure in her master’s eyes when Rex cries out in pain, and his cold indifference towards her when she blows Rex off for the nth time.

* * *

She is sixteen when she finally acknowledges her “family” was using her all along.

Well, not all of them. She is pretty sure Biowulf at least cared to some degree, maybe Skalamander too. Breach, however… well, Circe’s always known she was crazy.

She did not want to believe it. But it’s hard to ignore when you watch the boy you maybe-sort-of-possibly-have-a-crush-on get thrown around like a rag doll because your boss has bigger plans.

No Face lands a particularly vicious hit, sending Rex crashing into the concrete.

Seeing Rex lying face down like that… it brings back too many unpleasant memories. She is abruptly reminded of that vow she made two years prior, to never let something like this happen under her watch.

Choking, she staggers back. Has she failed again?

But no, Rex is much tougher than the nameless boy from the alley. Soon enough, he is up on his feet, and she is so relieved when he finally realizes he can’t win and escapes.

Later, when they’re able to catch their breath outside the Bug Jar, she stomps on the urge to hug him. Instead, she settles for a humble  _ you were right _ speech. To his credit, Rex doesn’t gloat, only takes her hands in his. She’s pretty sure they’re having a moment when Bobo drives up in a Providence-issued cycle.

Great timing, chimp.

After taking off the tracker (boys really can be idiots), she takes off in the opposite direction of the boy-monkey duo, once again alone in the world. What should she do now?

* * *

Following Rex’s advice, she heads to Hong Kong. She is not sure what she will find there, but it must be better than where she was before, right? After all, it’s not like she has anything to lose.

Rex mentioned he has friends who might be willing to take her in. He has texted her names and a phrase that should get these strangers to trust her. Great, but not exactly helpful in a city populated by over 7 million people.

He’s also given her some vague landmarks and directions to their “hideout,” which of course has to be on a roof in an unused water tower somewhere in the sea of concrete. Thanks Rex, real helpful, especially since not all of us can fly.

His stupid directions are so vague she spends hours jumping from roof to roof, water tower to water tower just trying to find the damn place. She feels really stupid tentatively knocking on the big containers only to be greeted by sloshing. So far she’s come up with a handful of fully functioning water towers. She understands he’s trying to protect his friends if her phone should happen to fall into the wrong hands, but seriously, a little more help would have been nice.

Two days later and she’s ready to give up when finally,  _ finally _ , her knocking is greeted by a cloud of black ink to the face. She coughs and splutters and doesn’t have time to recover before something wraps around her torso, pinning her arms to her sides and her legs together. When the ink dissipates, she blinks at the sight of three EVO teens glaring at her suspiciously.

“Who are you?” the mummy kid, whose bandages are restraining her, asks. “How did you know about this place?” The wariness and distrust in their eyes is all too familiar to her.

She clears her throat. “Uh, hi. I’m Circe. Rex said you guys might be able to help me out.” Octopus-face snorts.

“Riiiiiiight. And we should believe you, why?”

Circe’s expression hardens, and she recalls what Rex told her to do. She really hopes that he knew what he was doing.

“Ink check,” she says, and lo and behold small ink markings appear on all three teens. Circe smiles sheepishly at their dumbfounded expressions.

“Uh, Rex says hi. And if you could get a hold of some cheap manga for him, that’d be great.”

She is sixteen when she is introduced to her next family.

* * *

Circe did not realize how different the Pack was from a real family until she met the “Hong Kong trio,” as she’s dubbed them. For one, laughing does not make you a freak. And for another, there are no punishments if you defy the leader. Not that there really is a leader among them, which makes it even better.

It’s been so long since Circe has been around kids her age. Even longer since she’s had any fun. The lax environment is jarring at first, but she soon learns to just roll with it.

She has forgotten what it’s like to hang out with other girls (Breach doesn’t count). She and Cricket are on their way to becoming inseparable, and ganging up on the boys is quickly becoming their favorite pastime. Honestly, they’re just too easy to tease.

She’s also forgotten what dorks boys can be. If she thought Rex was weird, Tuck and Sqwydd are the definition of bizarre. She can see why they got along so well.

And for once, she really gets to know the city she’s living in. At first she thought Hong Kong was just another concrete jungle like the others, but her new friends show her the hidden treasures all over the metropolis. Hong Kong has become her home.

Here, living in an abandoned water tower with three misfits just like herself, Circe is free.

* * *

For a while, everything is perfectly imperfect. They are not rich, but they have each other and they have fun. Cricket is attempting to teach her Cantonese, but goddammit, whoever invented the language made it unnecessarily complicated! Whenever she complains to Cricket, all she gets is an eye-roll and a, “Come on, you’re not even trying. Woman up!” Circe can’t remember laughing so much.

But of course, it all ends too soon.

When she is captured by Providence and restrained, she is naturally furious and pissed at being helpless. But to her shock, her helplessness is directly tied to her inability to use her powers.

She never imagined there would come a day when she’d miss being an EVO.

She doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the irony. Some cosmic being somewhere must be having quite the laugh at her expense. Asshole.

Circe’s indignation melts into worry. She is terrified for her friends (and yes, that includes Rex). Even though her Hong Kong family was captured, she hasn’t seen them at Providence, and that scares her. Wouldn’t it make sense to lock all the captured EVOs up in the same spot?

She can’t allow herself to dwell on that train of thought, otherwise she’ll break down.

Defeated, she curls up in the back of the cage, resting her head on bent knees. But approaching voices have her on her feet instantly. A couple of black pawns and an older man march past her cell, and ignore her muffled shouts and furious glares. They continue past her as if she is just part of the scenery.

Frustrated, she kicks the bars keeping her from freedom and prays that Rex knows what he’s doing. As far as she’s concerned, he’s the world’s last hope.

* * *

Circe never realized how boring it was to be locked up.

She’s run through every Cantonese lesson she’s had with Cricket three times, counted to one million in several different increments, and even sang a few songs. 

Thunking her head against the wall of the cell, she curses Providence for the hundredth time. Hey, if she was going to be a prisoner of war, she at least wanted to be with other poor souls who suffered the same fate.

Suddenly there is a shift in the atmosphere and everything goes still. Then a soft blue wave of light engulfs the area and she is momentarily blinded.

When her vision returns, she blinks spots out of her eyes and notices something feels… different. Frowning, she examines her limbs and concludes she’s in one piece. Except the muzzle feels lighter somehow.

Circe freezes. No, it couldn’t be...

Hardly daring to breath, she tries to summon her second mouth and comes up with nothing. She tries again and again but only manages to make her jaw - her human jaw - sore.

Circe doesn’t know how or why, but she is normal again.

* * *

She is almost seventeen when the world goes back to the way it used to be, and everything is normal again. Except it’s not, because Circe no longer knows what it is to be normal.

She has changed. She is not entirely sure if this is a good thing.

She misses her old friends, and a part of her misses her parents - despite what they did, they are still blood, even if she knows now that blood isn’t everything.

But even though her road has not been pretty, she has a new family. She has new friends. And maybe, just maybe, she’ll go back to where it all began and try to make amends.

She can start anew.

For the first time in years, the girl who has finally lost her killer voice greets the future with a smile.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Translations (apologies if there’s anything wrong - I don’t speak Vietnamese so I used Google Translate):
> 
> (1) We’re home!
> 
> (2) Where is my baby?!
> 
> (3) My baby! MY BABY!
> 
> Author’s Ramblings: I have mixed feelings about Circe. I think she’s an interesting character, but I didn’t think she was very well developed throughout the show and what we have seen of her isn’t very endearing. That being said, I don’t hate her either. She’s… neutral for me, I guess. However, I did feel that she deserved an explanation for why she is who she is, and so this was born. I know it was really (possibly overly) dark and angsty but it just happened that way. Another plot hole filled to sooth my neurotic soul, yay!
> 
> And I’m sorry (okay, not really) about sneaking my OC in there - her story is as dark, if not darker than Circe’s - why is it so easy to torture characters?. You can visit my deviantART page to see my illustrations of her, if you’d like (same username or there’s a link on my profile). I tried to use Liz as a way to illustrate the early parts of Circe’s life and further emphasize her loneliness, since this fic is about Circe after all.


End file.
